heels over heads
by gokult
Summary: — because once upon a time, Natsume fell for Sasayan first. au


**FANDOM: **tnk**  
GENRE: **romance/friendship**  
CHARACTERS: **sasayan/natsume**  
WORD COUNT: **nearly six thousand wth**  
NOTE: **_ahaha, _this was supposed to be a oneshot.

* * *

**[heels over heads]**

(— because once upon a time, Natsume fell for Sasayan first. au)

She meets him, somewhat, through mutual friends.

He is, she notices immediately, rather short. He's boyish in a slightly odd way, and his smile stretches across his face in earnest and sincerity— something she constantly fails to achieve. His ears point slightly at the tips, and he seems a little elfish, and perhaps above all—

— he's a boy.

She scowls immediately, turns on her heel a bit, and bites her bottom lip.

And then, in a move that somehow both awes and irks her, he doesn't talk to her the entire time. He laughs along with Haru light-heartedly, gently smacks Mitty as he laughs, but it's almost as if he doesn't even chance a glance at her.

She feels indignant for several moments, and then has the half-hearted decency to nurse her slightly bruised ego and feel a little guilty at the same time. She takes a deep breath, slowing her pulsing heart because she was about to do something _quite potentially, _well, _dangerous._

But then, all of a sudden, she doesn't have to.

She feels a really light tap on her shoulder, and when she turns, she finds herself less than a foot away from this, this _boy. _And then she realizes that she still has to look up to catch the smile that edges along his face, and even further still to look at his twinkling eyes. He's chuckling at her, and her eyes narrow slightly.

By the end of the day, she's shrieking at him as if she's known him all her life, and he's just cracking jokes and teasing her all along the way.

As they hesitate outside the gates of the school, with Haru and Mitty walking _quite _close, but still a _little _far, he turns and grins at her whole-heartedly.

"Sasayan," he says easily, giving her a nod of his head.

She _almost_ smiles— she can't trust him _yet, _after all. He's still rather dangerous.

"Natsume," she sniffs out, raising her head a little haughtily— (but she makes sure he sees the edge of her teeth between her lips, just so he knows she's just _that _close to smiling; she might be a little spiteful, but she's not _cruel._)

Sasayan just laughs.

**x x**

Natsume wakes up the next day with a high pitched squeal, coupled with panting, a fast beating heart, and a sweat drop trickling down her face.

She realizes several things, all at once.

When she goes to school, she ignores Sasayan with purpose. He's hanging out with a rather criminal sort of people, she thinks venomously, eyeing the baseball team.

She feels a tap on her shoulder (the same tap that she felt just yesterday), and she turns sharply in the hallway. Sasayan's arched brow does nothing for her mood.

"I—" she hesitates, feeling her face slowly blooming and blowing up and every other thing that seems vastly unattractive, "— _I don't like you, oh dear god, please don't flirt with me," _she screeches, loudly. Should it be any other time, she would have found it slightly amusing in the way Sasayan suddenly stiffens.

Sasayan rubs his temples, and she feels really uncomfortable. She hates the way everybody stares and murmurs Sasayan's name, and then she realizes that, _oh, wait, _it was her fault that it turned out like this. She feels herself start to redden, but then she realizes that Sasayan's _snickering._

Her eyes narrow a bit, and she flings up her arms suddenly in a fit of embarrassment. "_Why are you laughing?"—_and although she means for it to come out as forceful and intimidating, it sounds much too close a wail. She gives him a dirty look.

He's watching her with slight amusement. "You're cute," he remarks offhandedly, a grin already splitting his face. She points at him accusingly, but before she can screech at him, he keeps talking. "— but not really my type?" he finishes, his eyebrow arched again.

She drops her arms, blinking blankly. He looks like he has half a mind to snicker a bit more, but he stops. "Don't worry, Natsume," he remarks wryly, "there'll always be some guys that won't like you like _that_, ya know?"

He pauses a bit more, twisting his sports bag. "So, let's be friends," he says casually, prodding her expectantly. "Okay?"

Suddenly, she feels a huge weight lift from her heart, and she nods enthusiastically. All of a sudden, a matching grin to his is on her face, and she realizes that perhaps Sasayan isn't as dangerous as she thought. "Yeah," she says brightly, feeling a sort of glowing warmth. "Yeah."

**x x**

— however, just because they're _friends_ doesn't mean she can't still be suspicious. And so, she resolves herself to do a little recon on Sasayan.

She watches him carefully, notices that he drinks chocolate milk as if it's sacred, that he always helps clean up even though he's _never _on duty, and realizes that girls actually _like _him.

Also, Sasayan's kind of stupid too— he's not too great at school, but hell, he's still a lot better than her. He's kind of a baseball idiot, but then again, she's almost positive that she didn't really need recon to know that.

At some point, Natsume comes to terms that Sasayan is _popular. _She's a little surprised, but then again, she's never been all that in touch with social circles— and boys, of course.

She stares at Sasayan as he laughs heartily along with an entire group of boys. She ducks behind a trash can as he walks through the hallways. She counts the number of people that say hello to him— it totals to fifteen in just _one hallway._

She feels jealousy bubble within her because they're like two magnets with opposite poles. He's completely different from her, and she can't help but hate him just a little bit for it. It might not actually be his fault, but still.

Even so, as Natsume watches, she realizes that Sasayan's smile is just a little bit dimmer and just a tiny bit smaller. She's a little concerned, because even though a part of her is you know, _really jealous of him—_ she's still concerned.

Natsume bites her lip and flails her arms, because even though she's a little— just a _little—_worried, she still doesn't _quite _know what to do_._That, and, she's still a little embarrassed because he's still kind of, sort of, a _boy, _and she's not quite sure if she can ever really get past that barrier with Sasayan.

Natsume takes a break from her recon, and then corners him by the vending machines. He doesn't look very flustered despite the fact that they're alone, and she's secretly a little grateful for this. Sasayan stares at her expectantly, and then she realizes that he's already smiling at her.

And then, she explodes, "S-stop smiling like _that, dammit,_"— and, "What was this, your master plan to get us _alone?"_and, "Sicko! PERVERT!" and, "… _BOY!_"

She then proceeds to cradle her head in shame because she was supposed to have been _comforting him _on whatever, and she ended up insulting him instead. She's kind of an idiot, sometimes.

She wails and turns away, and then, in a fit of embarrassment, she throws the chocolate milk she bought at his face. (It's not like I _bought _this for _you, okay?! Don't get any ideas!"_) He looks extremely startled, and perhaps under other circumstances, she would have laughed.

Instead, her face is burning red and she's just _so done with him right now._

She swears she hears him chuckle, and just as she opens her mouth to yell at him, she freezes instead at the hand that's tussling her hair. When she looks up just a _little _bit, she realizes that his smile is finally reaching his eyes, and all she wants to do is smile back.

She sticks her tongue out at him instead.

**x x**

It's two in the morning, and Natsume _can't do it. _

She's wailing, and Sasayan pinches the bridge of his nose. "— and _who thought it was a smart idea to mix the alphabet and numbers anyway?!_"

Sasayan chuckles at her, but she can feel his sleepiness seep through. She glances at the clock, and feels guilt burn through her. "Go sleep," she mutters, nudging him with her foot.

He glances up from his textbook, quirking a brow. "I don't get algebra either," he whines, elbowing her slightly. They sit against the wall of the batting cages, with _everybody else _sleeping beside them.

"Bastards," Sasayan remarks, poking his pencil at Haru's cheek. He snorts in his sleep, and both snicker.

"Geniuses," she corrects, and Sasayan pulls a face.

He raises a textbook. It looks huge, daunting, and _boring,_ much like the other _forty five hundred _textbooks around them. Their papers are sprawled around them, and it looks like a nerd party gone wrong.

He offers her a grimace, which she duly returns with a sigh.

It is four thirty when Natsume looks up sleepily from her workbook and sees Sasayan's crinkled algebra test sticking out of the corner of his textbook.

She stares at it blearily for several moments, when, suddenly, she _focuses, _because_ what the hell, _it has a solid eighty-four circled in red.

She blinks for a minute—

(— and then she smiles when he snores.)

**x x**

On a hot summer day, he has a baseball game. It's the first time she's ever watched him play, and she's nervous. He laughs at her, to the point that he's shaking, and she feels like kicking him.

"I can't help it!" she yelps loudly. He grins, his laughs still shaking his entire body.

"You're more nervous than _me, _Natsume," he states dryly. He twists the cap that's on top of his head to the side so he can eye her evenly. "It'll be fine." He flashes her the victory sign as he starts to run away from her backwards.

She grips the sides of her shorts as she frets some more next to Mitty and Haru. She prays some, even though she's terribly unreligious, because what if he gets _hurt. _She's heard stories, after all.

When she confesses her worries aloud, Haru's not listening, and Mitty's studying. She feels like wailing again.

Once it starts, she feels her heart hammering against her chest. The wind blows through the area, buffeting red sand and dust.

Five minutes in, Natsume realizes that she doesn't get baseball. Like, at all.

Haru heaves a deep sigh, but he's still smiling as he waves his hands everywhere, especially at Sasayan, all while explaining baseball to her. She's not quite sure if she's listening, because she's distracted by Sasayan.

His hands are clenched tightly to his knees, and she's not imagining the sweet curve of his lips, the tip of his tongue jutting out. He's probably all sweaty and dusty and, it's strange— she doesn't think she's ever seen Sasayan look so happy.

Natsume hasn't been listening, so instead, she cheers as hard as she can, squeezing her fist tightly to herself. She ignores the weird stares she gets, and instead yells Sasayan's name until her throat hurts. His eyes flicker towards her a few times, and she's a little pleased that she's embarrassing him, because she _knows _that he's not red because of the heat.

They are nine innings in, the other team just edging behind them. The other, rotten, _terrible _team has two outs, and the current batter, Haru whispers to her, hits _hard. _Her fingers lace together, and she's praying _again. _Secretly, she thinks it's ridiculous, but then she sees how hard Sasayan's clenching his teeth, and she prays all over again.

Haru isn't lying about the batter. The ball whips across the field with a hard _'crack' _of the bat, and she's screaming Sasayan's name recklessly because it looks like it'll _hit him._

"Catch it, catch it, _catch it," _she hisses loudly. The ball finally bounces, _once, _and she's holding her breath as Sasayan makes a dive. He stands just as quick, his face red with sand, but he makes a running throw, and she _still _can't breathe.

"WIN, DAMMIT," she screams loudly, and even though she's betting on dirty looks from all around her, she feels Haru's rough smack of approval on her back and smiles. The idiot batter runs past first base, and, even though her throat's hoarse, she's still yelling and hollering. She smiles even wider when Mitty stands along with them.

Sasayan's throw seems to go in slow motion, and she feels like everybody in the bleachers is holding their breath. And then, everything _breaks_ when the guy on second base _catches _the ball, and the batter is _out, _and the bleachers erupt in screams.

She likes to think that she's still the loudest though, because Sasayan suddenly turns towards them, and flashes the victory sign. She flashes it back, laughing and breathing hard between her teeth.

**x x**

Natsume takes back whatever good things she ever said about Sasayan. Wholeheartedly too.

Sasayan nags her, reprimands her, _scolds her—_like, what?!— and irritates her to no end. He's not afraid to tell her the _cold, hard _truth, and, and, and.

She finds that perhaps she doesn't dislike it as much as she should, and she huffs at herself. Sasayan is next to her, crunching up his milk cartoon as he slurps it clean. She snorts a little at him, and he shrugs his shoulders.

She finds that it's been rather lonely, as of late, and Mitty and Haru have gotten awfully close. She doesn't mind— Sasayan calls her bluff quickly, eagerly, and with a slight hint of smugness, to which in response, she shoves at him, _hard_— but it's still _lonely. _She's not sure if she can go back to her blog friends after finally finding _real _ones.

Sasayan gives her an odd look. "What am I, sliced bread?" he says, still slurping.

She glares. "No, you're a _boy," _she quips back. He rolls his eyes, and it _still _irks her, because why is he so mean to her anyway?

She shoots the question at him, giving him an expectant look. He pauses, and she watches as his brow crinkles a bit, how his tongue sticks out just, just a _tiny _bit, and then he tosses his empty milk cartoon towards the trash bin. He turns back to her, frowning.

"You make me feel comfortable," he says honestly. "Not in a bad way," he says aloud, leaning back on his elbows, "but not really in a _good _way either. I can be upfront with you, I guess." He sounds a little embarrassed, and she then realizes that with Sasayan, he can never be anything less than completely truthful. "I can't really be like this with anybody else."

All of a sudden, it's a little too much when he turns that blinding grin at her— she turns away, smiling just a little bit.

It's strange, she thinks suddenly. It's strange how she can feel so pleased at such a little thing, such a tiny insignificant thing.

**x x**

There are days when they laze around on the countertops of the batting center. She argues half-heartedly with Sasayan, tackles Mitty when she says something very awe-inspiring— which, is _obviously, _all the time— and laughs along with Haru.

She turns a little bit redder, laughs a little bit higher, grips her skirt a little bit tighter when Micchan comes in. She feels something that burns in her chest, brightly, and she smiles secretively to herself.

Mitty and Haru always leave just a little bit earlier than her and Sasayan, and the habit isn't lost on the two. That, and, Haru is _very_obvious when he shoves _the _look at them. Sasayan waves lazily, while Micchan goes to tend to a couple of idiot middle schoolers. Her eyes trail after Micchan in a slightly absentminded, slightly dreamy way.

Sasayan eyes her through one eye, and she flinches, and then, she wonders if he _knows. _Sasayan is much too perceptive for his own good, and she feels like huffing again. Instead, though, she is filled with this odd, panicky sort of feeling, and she's blushing from head to toe.

How dare he, she thinks, shoving him off the counter; how dare he _already _know about her feelings, when she hasn't even begun to sift through them.

Sasayan irks her to no end, and she stands on her tippy toes just to see if he properly fell to the floor, like he _deserves._

As if he can read her mind, he's grinning a little from where he is on the floor, a smile tugging at the edges of his lips. He's leaning on his elbow, his other hand tapping an odd sort of rhythm.

She breathes a little bit easier, since he's not saying anything, because Sasayan _always _says something, but then—

"—I won't say anything," he says breezily, suddenly, as he stands and pats the dust off of him. She can see the edge of his wicked grin, and she gives a shrill shriek.

When he literally laughs aloud, she throws an empty soda can at his face.

**x x**

They're goofing off in a coffee shop, their textbooks sprawled out before them. She yawns lazily while Sasayan flicks little pieces of his fancy muffin at her.

They would have gone to the batting cages, but she's still feeling _something _towards Micchan, and she can't help but think that it's rather pretty, this feeling. It burns in the pit of her stomach, makes her heart flutter— but at the same time, it's frightening.

(She's a coward, and cowards run.)

— Sasayan shoves a menu in her face. She yelps at him, because, _what the hell, _but she supposes that he miscalculated her reflexes, because she already sees the broad back of Micchan, his white, white smile, his sunglasses, and the flash of his four piercings.

She can see the petite body beside him, and she feels her stomach pull when he laughs.

From across the table, she can feel brown eyes staring at her. She blinks and blinks and _blinks, _but it's too late because her eyes are watering.

She starts to blame it on allergies, but Sasayan just shoves tissues at her instead.

**x x**

She always feels a little uglier when she rejects somebody. It brings out the worst in her, and she hates it. She hates the boy for liking her, and she hates herself because she can never like them back.

(She thinks, _Micchan, _and then, _hypocrite._)

She breaks hearts as if they're made of glass and she's a bag of hammers. It is a talent that she is terribly good at, and it isn't something she is ever proud of.

She feels like crying, sometimes, because she just can't _understand. _There isn't anything good about her; these people don't _know _her. They don't know that she's a chronic blogger, that if she doesn't have a can of peach soda every three days that she'll break down, that she can only snap with her left hand but not her right.

They don't know that she used to have a goldfish until she _accidentally dropped it down the sink_, and then Sasayan _accidentally turned on the food processor. _They don't know that she's terrible at books and that she has no common sense.

They don't know that she's secretly a romantic who breaks hearts faster than people can blink.

They don't _know _her, and maybe that's why it's her heart that's slowly breaking too.

**x x**

She calls Sasayan at three in the morning. He sounds tired and groggy and he grunts his greeting into the phone with much effort. She feels like laughing, but then her smile freezes and drops.

"Am I a bad person?" she blurts out, and she's not crying. Her heart still clenches, though, and she sighs through her teeth.

He's thinking— or sleeping. She makes noises through the phone and she can practically hear him pull a face. His sheets rustle, and, "— sometimes, definitely."

She hates him, she thinks.

"— but then again, everybody's pretty much a bad person, so isn't it fine?"

She leans into her bed frame and licks her dry lips. She's smiling, a little, because he's such an idiot.

**x x**

Despite everything she says, and everything that _seems, _Natsume and Sasayan fight. More bickering than anything else, sometimes arguments, and there are times when there are just _fights_— full, blown out, dragged out fights, full of pressure and tension and bad feelings.

Natsume is all harsh words that are hissed through clenched teeth, while her fists are held tightly to her side. She blinks back tears, because she's ten times stronger than she looks, but still a coward all the same.

Sasayan says things that soar over her head, insults her but not _really, _and it hurts because she knows she's five times crueler to him than he could ever be to her. It's so unfair, because Sasayan is still _so gentle, _and yet just, such an _ass, _and she has no idea how he makes that work.

She screams insults at him often, and he always listens, brooding. She hates it the most when they fight, and she can't stand it because it's almost as if it's always _her _fault.

"Why can't you just talk to them?" he says, and when she looks closer, his brow is creased just a bit lower than the usual, his bottom lip jutted just a bit more than the usual.

She can already feel the tension.

"Because they're _guys, _Sasayan," she snaps back. "Because they can be selfish pigs, because I'm a _girl, _because to them, I'm, I'm _nothing," _she grounds out, "nothing but something to catch, something to want, _something_, but still _nothing_."

Sasayan always gives her rather funny looks, and this time isn't any different. They are still tense, and she feels like this look of his is much too condescending, and she feels like snapping at him all over again.

"Just _try, _Natsume," he urges, his voice rough all around the edges. "They just want to be friends."

She turns on her heels, facing away from him before she blows up, before she says something she might regret. She does that a lot around him too. "What's so different about '_them_'?" he says, his exasperation finally edging out. "You're friends with me, aren't you? There's no difference, Natsume."

Sasayan never understands, she decides rather harshly, and all too suddenly. "You don't get it," and all of a sudden, she's exploding. "_You don't get it,_" and it's dangerous.

She's lost a lot, never had friends, has hit rock bottom because, because of _them, _and Sasayan's not _like _them, and _that's _why it's okay. He doesn't judge her, doesn't _want _her like _they _do, doesn't stare at her like she's a hunk of meat; he's _different,_ and she's infuriated, because why won't he understand?

There aren't other boys like Sasayan, and _that's_ why she's so angry, because he's treating their friendship as if it can be forged just as easily amongst a group of carnivores. It hurts, because it feels like she's _nothing _all over again, and it hurts even more, because she knows that's not what he means.

She stomps away, and she's stuck between a cross of being in tears and full blown out relief when Sasayan doesn't follow.

**x x**

When Natsume finds Sasayan completely insufferable, she runs to the batting cages, runs away from him, and runs all the way to Micchan.

Her breath is short by the time she stops, and to her, she feels like her legs will never stop shaking. Natsume stops right outside the batting cages, feeling her heart tremble. She hates how Sasayan seems to be the only one who can do this to her. With her heart on her sleeve, her face a bright red, her eyes just a little bit puffy, she tugs on the handle and goes inside.

Micchan waves at her, and she suddenly finds herself wishing she could see bright brown eyes and elfish ears instead of sunglasses and piercings. Micchan isn't Sasayan, after all.

She settles on top of the countertop, and her heart still does the tippy-tap that only happens with Micchan. She swings her legs half-heartedly, twiddling with her cellphone charm. Micchan considers her, and she can just barely see the edges of his eyes behind his dark shades.

"So, Natsume-chan," he says kindly, "want some juice?"

—and then she feels the tears start to well up, and she's suddenly choking. She feels like the words will just come tumbling out, "— what if he doesn't _want _to talk to me?" and, "—he can't stand me, but, but, _but_," and, "— why can't he understand, Micchan, that he's _different, _that he's _special_?" but instead of words, suddenly, she's wailing.

Because in the end, Micchan still isn't Sasayan, and she can't say anything when she can't see his pointy ears and expressive smile and long fingers.

She steals the juice box away, and then feels rather betrayed when she realizes she's been given chocolate milk instead.

Damn Sasayan.

**x x**

Somewhere along the way, Micchan manages to persuade her that she'll feel better if she imagines Sasayan's face as the ball when she swings a bat at it.

It doesn't really work, she realizes, because this place reminds her too much of Sasayan. It reminds her of late night batting matches, of her missing the ball, his chuckles and his firm grip as he shows her just how to do it.

It reminds her of two o'clock studying, of the loud thump of the ball hitting the chainmail, of thrown milk cartoons and juice boxes— it reminds her of, of _Sasayan, _and she finds herself wondering if maybe Micchan did this on purpose.

She slides down the chainmail, gently smoothing her fingers down the cheap wood of her bat. She hugs her knees to her chest, because she's so, so, _so angry, _and so _upset—_and it takes her a few moments to realize that she's more upset at herself than at him. Even so, it doesn't stop her from hitting a homerun at that damn ball, at Sasayan's damn face.

She brushes aside her tears roughly, throws down the bat harshly, and runs out of the batting cage with a squished chocolate milk cartoon in her right hand.

She curses, just a little bit, when she bumps into somebody, but she flinches when she sees pointy ears and the flash of brown eyes. She wonders if she's imagining the guilt that flashes in his eyes, or the tint of red that that are at the tips of his ears.

He opens and closes his mouth, and then he sighs. He takes her arm, opens her hand, and then roughly shoves something into her hand. Natsume glances down, startled, and blinks exactly two times.

It's peach soda, and her eyes are already welling up all over again. "I know it's your favorite," he says a little gruffly, brushing his hand against the back of his neck.

It doesn't take long until she's wailing, her tears falling along the way. He always finds her first, dammit.

"You're _special, _dammit, Sasayan," and the words just keep tumbling out. She aims to throw the chocolate milk carton at his face, but he catches it with ease. He sighs again, just a little, but she can already see the smile along the edges of his lips.

**x x**

He walks her home, and they are quiet. She glances back at the batting cages, back at Micchan, and she's quivering because, because, _because _she's still scared. "Are you mad?" she whispers, and she doesn't quite know why.

He rolls his shoulders, sipping his chocolate milk. "— yes," he says decisively, facing forward, "but not really at you."

Sasayan, she thinks, has this odd habit of never being able to blame anybody besides himself. It's always his fault, even though it's _never_ his fault. It breaks her a little bit inside, because that's just so _unfair._

Natsume might be a little stupid, but she's not _oblivious. _She gulps silently, and as she stares at his squared back, she has the sudden desire to hug him— this boy, her _best friend_, who has clenched fists and red ear tips and whose head is facing the ground.

But at the same time, she feels it, that inevitable tug at her heart because, wait, she _can't _hug him because what, what if something _changes_— and then, a sudden thought rears its ugly head— because Sasayan _is _special, but he's still— still a _boy_— and then she hates herself a little bit more inside. Sasayan glances up, and she can feel his eyes, and she can see that his lips are quirking to the side again.

She's quavering, because she's despicable.

Natsume notices, as he gets a little bit closer, that Sasayan has a crooked smile, three freckles to the right of his nose, and chapped lips. His head lands on top of her shoulder with a gentle thump, and she forgets to breathe for a while.

"Don't force yourself too much," he says quietly, and she thinks she can feel his smile through her thin jacket.

She feels the back of her throat start to burn, and she's crying all over again. "Sorry," she sniffles, rubbing her hands against her eyes.

Sorry, because she's weak. Sorry, because she's a coward. Sorry, because he's special. Sorry, because she can't try yet.

Sorry, because she trusts you as much as she doubts you.

**x x**

Natsume calls Sasayan quite often, she realizes, as she scrolls through her call list over and over and over. She silently debates their annual Saturday six o'clock call, but eventually gives in.

He gives the traditional four rings before he picks up. "'ello," he says, and she can tell he's eating. "You're five minutes late."

She makes a face that she bets he can hear from across the line. She leans back into her bed frame easily, sighing just a little bit.

To be honest, their calls consist mostly of bickering, and when they put their minds to it— as Natsume is quite the honest procrastinator, and Sasayan's just plain _lazy_ sometimes— they study just a little bit over the phone, as if it completely justified them wasting their time.

"You're soft on me," she says a little smugly, one night. He breathes a laugh down the line, and she can hear the telltale crunch of an apple.

"You caught me," he says dryly, the connection crackling a bit. "What a crime."

On other nights, they just talk. Occasionally about Mitty and Haru, about Yamaken, about lots of people. They make an effort to dance around the subject of themselves on most nights.

If there is one thing the two have in common, it was that they weren't very good at being personal. Natsume watches Sasayan sometimes, and she realizes that Sasayan is close to everybody, but nobody's really close to him. He holds everybody at a distance of about two feet, and smiles despite everything else.

She points this out to him, one day, and he shrugs. "'Dun do it to you," he remarks, and she can hear him snapping a carrot in half as he chews.

She smiles warmly, feeling something tug in her chest. "No," she says a little giddily. "Guess you don't."

**x x**

She loves dragging Sasayan out. Contrary to popular belief, Sasayan is _such _a lazy ass. He always shoved aside time for his friends, but at the same time, _god, _he loved parking himself onto that damn couch of his.

He's moping a little bit as she tugs him around, constantly pulling; he never complains, though, even when she goes into the girly stores.

"This one or this one?" she whines to him, shoving two shirts in his face. He opens his mouth, and she's already shooting him a look. "And don't you dare say they look alike, because they're _not._"

He grumbles, and he rakes his fingers through his hair, making it stick up at odd angles. "I'm sure you'll look good in everything," he mutters, more to himself than her, leaning closer as he inspects the pieces.

The attendant of the store has been watching them, and finally, she giggles at them. "Quite the nice boyfriend you've got there," she says, flashing her pearly whites. She gapes, flabbergasted, stuttering, red in the face, and just as she's about to scream her denial—

— Sasayan laughs. "I try, I try," he says good-naturedly, easily, "but we're not dating; we're just friends." He glances down, and holds up the multitude of bags. "And I'm kind of her lackey," he finishes, his lips quirking a bit.

The employee is kind of, really pretty, Natsume realizes five seconds later. She has really long, really silky black hair, long eyelashes, and pretty, really, really pretty brown eyes that are big and expressive. She feels something when Sasayan jokes around with her, leaning back comfortably onto the counter, while she leans forward with a smile on her face.

She feels _something, _Natsume thinks, as she sifts absentmindedly through the lace, the mint, the pastels, and she realizes that it's an ugly sort of something.

**x x**

* * *

**NOTE: **hi this is like shippING barf like idk how i even like i hit page _twelve_and just wth  
in which the only productive thing i can tell you in this note is that this will be a multichap!  
hello, i get retarded once it hits 4 am.  
hashtag #yolo because i'm a chronic fandom jumper and a chronic "drop off the side of the earth and never  
return until five hundred years later" kinda girl.

catch ya on the flip side,  
**gokult.**


End file.
